


Bury It and Rise Above

by nataliving



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, I don't want anyone to have any illusions here: Clarke does not want to have sex with Bellamy at all, Mainly because this is an, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sexual Abuse, and Clarke's super not into him, and since dubcon is basically noncon, and that's sort of the name of the game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-13 23:03:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7141706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nataliving/pseuds/nataliving
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The two of them will make beautiful children. With curly hair and big eyes and crooked smiles.</p><p>That is what consoles Clarke as she sits next to the king in his royal coach en route to his castle.</p><p>or my take on Reshopgoufa's Royal Scandal AU, posted with permission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bury It and Rise Above

**Author's Note:**

> Part of me feels like this could be A Lot Longer, but I also just wanted to get it out. Probably little too fluffy for my liking too? Which is weird to say because:
> 
> TW: Rape. Make no mistake, that's what happens here.

The two of them will make beautiful children. With curly hair and big eyes and crooked smiles.

That is what consoles Clarke as she sits next to the king in his royal coach en route to his castle.

Clarke is a princess. She is used to royal coaches and castles, but the difference here is that none of this is hers. It’s all his. King Bellamy. After they were wed, she wasn’t even allowed to keep any of her own attendants because he did not trust them.

They are riding in his coach, with his attendants, to his castle because she is now _his_.

Clarke, a woman who, if not for her father’s untimely death in an unsuccessful coup that ultimately destabilized the whole region, would not have even considered marriage for several more years, and certainly wouldn’t have chosen Bellamy—not that she would have ever had a real choice. But her father would have at the very least chosen better for her than the Rebel King of the South.

His own claim to the throne was weak. With barely enough blood in his veins to make it, he strong-armed his way through succession, either killing the opposition or neutralizing it with some sort of unequal treaty.

Clarke has to admit: His military force is unmatched. However, that was mostly due his mysterious Royal Commander. Tales of the knight’s exploits were popular in every court.

Still, it does not escape Clarke that Bellamy needs this marriage as much as her kingdom does. Clarke’s kingdom will receive the protection of Bellamy’s army while the rest of the region continues to squabble and Bellamy will receive legitimacy as his claim to royalty is strengthened with _her_ blood.

And even with this marriage in place, Clarke fears that Bellamy’s hunger for power will lead him to her brother, Aden. She can only hope that Aden ascends before Bellamy can manipulate his way onto her father’s throne.

But Clarke has done all that she can to protect her brother and her kingdom. She has married Bellamy, and she must believe that it can be enough.

So, instead, she distracts herself from her political worries and her husband’s vice grip on her hand, and thinks of her future children.

*

She will want for nothing, that much is clear. Except for her freedom, but Clarke must get used to that feeling she supposes.

There is a feast held in her honor that is more extravagant than the one that followed their wedding. Clarke meets Princess Octavia, her new sister, for the first time, as Bellamy would not allow her to travel to Clarke’s home for the wedding. Her smile is bright, but Clarke notes the inherent anxiety as she addresses her own brother, which does nothing to assure Clarke of her own fate.

But she also meets the rest of Bellamy’s court, taking a particular liking to Lincoln, the calm and measured captain of the guard, and Raven, the royal engineer who seems to be the only one comfortable enough to occasionally exchange jabs with the temperamental king.

Truthfully, the dinner isn’t terrible. Tense, slightly stilted, but not terrible. The king is happy, so his subjects are smiling, but Clarke wonders if she will ever feel at ease in this new home.

But when the butler, Murphy, comes swiftly into the hall, the air changes. “Your Majesty, I hate to interrupt, but I thought you would like to know that the Royal Commander has returned.”

“Better late than never. Send her in,” the king orders, with a wave of his hand. Clarke’s brow furrows. No one ever said that the Royal Commander was a woman.

Murphy leaves with a bow, and a few minutes later, the door opens again. With confident, long strides, a lean woman still in battledress and warpaint, approaches the throne. When she reaches her king’s feet, she kneels, bowing her head.

“Your Majesty.”

“Commander,” he greets. “I trust those rabble-rousers have been neutralized?”

“I would not have returned if otherwise.”

She looks up at her king then, and the two exchange smiles, though, Clarke notes, the Commander’s does not reach her eyes.

“All in a day’s work, I suppose,” says the king. “Now, though, it is time to meet your queen.” The king stands, taking Clarke’s hand and bringing her to stand with him. The commander’s eyes meet Clarke’s—bright, warm green—for a moment before her head is bowed again. “May I present the Royal Commander, Lexa of Tondisi. I’m sure you are familiar with tales of her exploits in the name of our kingdom.”

“Yes,” Clarke replies, suddenly a little breathless. “She has made quite a name for herself.” As per custom, she presents her hand to the commander.

“It is lovely to meet you, my queen. As it will be even more so to fight in your name,” Lexa says, taking Clarke’s hand in her own, and gently but chastely bringing Clarke’s knuckles to her lips. Clarke can’t help but wonder how the ruthless Royal Commander’s hands can still be so soft.

Shaking herself from her thoughts, she pulls the Lexa to her feet and quickly drops her hand. “We should hope that those difficult days are behind us, now that our two kingdoms have been united.”

The Royal Commander nods, a small smile turning up the corners of her lips. “Of course, your majesty. I would welcome the reprieve.”

She holds Clarke’s gaze for a beat too long, and it is only when the Bellamy dismisses her to change out of her battledress that the moment is broken.

Clarke’s heart feels light and heavy for the rest of the feast.

*

He beds her. As is his right, as she is _his_ now. And it is still true that they will make beautiful children.

He falls asleep promptly afterwards, and the only thing that keeps her tears at bay is memory of Lexa’s lips on her knuckles. And she knows, _she knows_ , it is the farthest thing from right, but that is within the context of a world where the burning and soreness between her legs _isn’t._

He is gone when her new attendant, Maya, wakes her. She is here to change the sheets.

*

Bellamy comes to her room several more times before he is called to some faraway court.

Once he is beyond the castle gates, Clarke feels the castle breathe a sigh of relief, and she does the same.

She takes to simply walking the grounds, and slowly begins to notice the secrets of her new home.

Maya receives love letters from one of the groundskeepers that make her skip the rest of the day.

Raven trades bread and cheese for extra raw materials from the city blacksmith. He apparently also slips in love letters that make Raven smile, but then she throws them into her forge.

Octavia requests that Lincoln—or rather, as she puts it to sound official, the Captain of the Guard—escorts her to the gardens after luncheon every day. They talk quietly as Lincoln braids flowers into her hair.

She is watching Octavia and Lincoln from across the lake when she meets Lexa again.

“I would have never thought the queen to be a spy.”

Her voice makes Clarke jump, and she turns to find Lexa standing several feet behind her.

“You would be surprised,” Clarke recovers. “I wouldn’t take the Royal Commander to be one for espionage either.”

“Not espionage, just security. Someone has to look out for you since the guard seems to be indisposed,” Lexa replies with a soft smirk.

“And that someone has to be you?” Clarke asks.

This, ironically, catches the commander off guard. She clears her throat and bows her head. “If you would prefer the company of someone else—”

It is the farthest thing from right—

Clarke offers her hand. “Walk with me?”

Lexa recovers quickly, offering out her arm, which Clarke immediately takes. “Of course, your majesty.”

*

Soon after that, Clarke has a secret of her own.

Lexa presses kisses to her knuckles in public, but under cover of darkness presses them to her thighs and her lips and her shoulders.

Clarke lies in Lexa’s bed, illuminated by candlelight as they smile and laugh quietly about things that had happened during the day.

Clarke falls asleep in Lexa’s arms and feels safe and secure and so desperately wishes that she could be hers and not _his_.

But eventually, the king returns.

She realizes that first night that he is displeased that she is not pregnant. She can tell in the way his hands grip her tight, sure to leave bruises, to lay claim.

He repeats this for a week, and after each night she hopes it takes because at least then he would leave her alone.

And she remembers that they will make beautiful children.

But one night, as she lies awake waiting for Bellamy to return and remind her that she is his, her door opens, but is Maya standing there, candelabrum in hand, instead of her king.

“Maya?”

“The King will not be joining you tonight, Your Majesty,” she whispers.

“Oh. I see,” Clarke says, but her confusion is clear.

Maya bites her lip and clenches her empty hand into a fist before asking, “Perhaps there is someone— _Somewhere_ ,” she corrects, “Else you would like to spend the evening?”

Clarke realizes that her secret is not so secret after all. And perhaps she should be more alarmed by this, should be more afraid that she had been so apparently transparent. But Clarke also realizes that this whole castle must be united it keeping their secrets from the king.

And it is then that she feels at home.

“Yes, Maya, I would like that very much.”

Lexa is awake when she arrives, worried and waiting. Maya tells them she will be back to collect Clarke in the morning, and barely has the door closed behind her before Lexa has Clarke’s face in her hands and is bringing their lips together.

The kiss is desperate and full and hungry. It had been a week, but it had felt like an eternity. It’s an apology because they both know what had to happen in that week apart was unavoidable, but it still hurt. It still felt wrong.

Lexa beds her. But she is everything he is not: soft, satisfying, and loving. And when Lexa’s fingers thrust deep inside her, and curve to reach the spot that will unravel her, to Clarke, nothing feels more right.

Later, when they are both sated and sleepy, Clarke can’t stop herself from asking, “How?”

“It was Octavia’s idea. She wrote me a letter. Apparently her attendant, Indra, does this for her and Lincoln.”

And it is strange to think Clarke ever thought that it was going to be her against this castle, when it is so very clear that it is this castle against its king.

*

They were never caught, but Bellamy still found out.

Clarke can’t be sure, but it must have been when Clarke saw him and Lexa off to battle that tipped him off.

There had been another rebellion mounting in the outskirts of their borders, and this time Bellamy had been angry enough to tend to it himself. The morning Lexa was set to leave with a battalion, he also donned his (ceremonial) battledress.

He made a lovely speech about fighting and then took Clarke into his arms, kissing her roughly for all to see. He did not seem to notice that Clarke did not return the kiss, as he mounted his (rarely used) white steed.

Just before Bellamy gave the command to move out, Clarke reached for Lexa, atop her own horse, and Lexa brought Clarke’s knuckles to her lips.

“I will return to you, Your Majesty,” was whispered against them, and then she was gone.

Perhaps it wasn’t as chaste as it needed to be. Perhaps their eyes gave them away. Either way, when Bellamy returns, Lexa doesn’t. Instead, she is ordered to rendezvous with the Arkadian forces and assist them with their campaign against the Azgeda invasion.

It is enough to keep Lexa away for six months, and by the time she returns, Clarke had swollen with Bellamy’s child at last. But in the safety of Lexa’s chambers, as she presses soft kisses to Clarke’s womb, it occurs to Clarke that, if it were possible, they would make beautiful children too. With curly hair and big eyes and crooked smiles.

As Clarke falls asleep in Lexa’s arms, she prays to whichever entity has the power to grant her request that she could be allowed to raise this child as theirs, and not as the product of this inadequate king.

Lexa is called away again in the morning; this time to mount a direct attack on the Azgeda Kingdom. Clarke is not permitted to see her off, forced instead to watch her leave from the window in her chambers.

Still, Lexa’s eyes still manage to find her own before the Commander rides beyond the castle gates.

*

Clarke gives birth to Prince Alexander two months later. His hair is curly, but sandy. He has his father’s skin. And by some miracle, his eyes are bright green.

Clarke falls in love immediately, and four months later, when Lexa finally gets to meet him, Clarke watches her fall in love too.

*

The king decides to go on the offensive soon after Alexander’s birth, breaking treaties and conquering smaller kingdoms in quick succession. The Royal Commander and her army spend their days wiping out villages and decimating the smaller armies.

Just as one campaign ends, Lexa receives word of another. And soon, the king who was once known as the Rebel King, quickly becomes the Ruthless King. The entire region is put on guard; afraid that Bellamy’s violent whims might cause him to target them next.

Princess Octavia pleads with her brother for some measure of mercy, but he will not hear of it. Any life that was once in the castle is snuffed out, as it becomes the war fortress of a tyrant.

It is when King Bellamy decides to turn against his Tondisi allies, however, that change comes quickly.

It is a test of loyalty, clearly. Or perhaps better termed a punishment. But more than anything, it’s a line he’s about to cross.

When Bellamy was strong-arming his way to the throne, it was only made possible with the support from the neighboring kingdom. Bellamy had promised peace between the two kingdoms if Tondisi had pledged fealty to him, going so far as to promise appointments to his court.

It was how Lexa and Lincoln had come to be in Bellamy’s service, and his army had tripled in size because of it.

But when knowledge of Clarke and Lexa’s affair becomes public, instead of dismissing or killing Lexa, Bellamy purports that the rumors are coming from within the Tondisi court, and are a power play to take control of his kingdom.

“It’s clear they see me as the weak to think that something as small as a ridiculous rumor will be enough to prompt me to compromise my army,” he declares as Lexa stands before him in his throne room.

“I agree, Your Majesty. If the rumors are coming from Tondisi, they are clearly nothing but gossip.” It is hard to dissuade her king when they both know the truth.

“Exactly!” Bellamy yells. “They think I’m weak enough to fall prey to court gossip! So it is clear that I must show them _how strong I am!_ ”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

Bellamy gets down from his throne to stand inches for Lexa’s face.

“They must never forget that _I_ am the one in control, Commander,” he whispers roughly, saliva flinging from his face onto hers.

So Lexa prepares to march on her own people. She can do little else. The night before she is set to leave, Bellamy forbids Clarke from leaving her chambers, posting guards outside of her door. The message is clear: They will obey or they will die.

Hopelessly, Clarke tries to soothe Alexander to sleep while she is wound tighter than a bowstring.

There is a knock at the door, and suddenly Raven is there.

“I can make something happen,” she says.

“Raven, what are you talking about?”

Instead of clarifying, she pushes forward. “I already have Princess Octavia’s blessing. If you want me to, _I can fix this_.”

There are a great many things Clarke wants fixed, but she’s still not quite sure which Raven is referring to. Her brow furrows as she asks, “What will happen?”

“Something bad,” she answers plainly, “But then hopefully a lot of good. For everyone. For the kingdom.”

Then it clicks. So Clarke asks, “Will Lexa be safe?”

“Lincoln has written some letters. She has no idea. She should be fine.”

‘Should’ is not Clarke’s favorite word, but it will have to do for now.

Clarke sighs before nodding. “Then fix it.”

*

Two weeks later, King Bellamy, first of his name, dies in a hunting accident involving a malfunctioning crossbow.

Queen Clarke and Princess Octavia immediately send letters to Tondisi for a truce and a laying down of arms. Tondisi complies at once.

The dead king’s funeral is a quick and quiet affair.

Lexa returns to the castle with ambassadors in tow, and a new treaty is negotiated. The process is relatively painless—almost as if everyone knew that this conflict was merely the product of the king’s insecurity.

The night of Lexa’s return, Clarke invites Lexa to her chambers. No cover of darkness, no escort with a candelabrum. Just Lexa joining Clarke in bed and in love.

They kiss freely this time. No pressure or time limit to hold them down, comforted in the knowledge that no one will come to take the other away in the morning. The king is dead, and they can finally look towards the future.

In the months that follow, the priority becomes the line of succession. While Alexander is the rightful heir to the throne, he would need a regent appointed in the meantime. And even though Clarke seems the obvious choice, it is during a lazy morning in Clarke’s bed that she suggests what has been weighing on her mind since Bellamy’s death.

“What if I abdicated?”

Lexa laces her fingers with Clarke’s and presses her lips to her knuckles, as she has done countless times. “Alex is the rightful heir. He’ll need his mother to guide him.”

“But what if I don’t want that for him?”

“What? To rule?”

“Yes.”

“Clarke, it’s his birthright.”

“It’s just as much Octavia’s as it is his. If I have my way, he won’t even know his father’s name, let alone his legacy.”

Lexa props herself up on her elbow. “Then what would you do?”

“I don’t know. Live with you.”

“I live here.”

“But you don’t have to. Not anymore. This could be a fresh start for all of us.”

Lexa smiles and then leans down to catch Clarke’s lips. She whispers against them, “If that is what you wish, love.”

“It is,” she replies before sucking Lexa’s bottom lip in between her own.

So Clarke abdicates and sets Octavia up on the throne. She and Lincoln marry soon after.

* 

Alexander is a beautiful boy, with is curly brown hair, big bright green eyes, and wide smile that only sometimes is a crooked little smirk.

He’s quite the talker, babbling about horsies and sheep and doggies as he sits on Lexa’s lap while she smiles down at him with rapt attention, only occasionally prompting a topic change—“What about duckies, Alex?”—as they ride through the familiar countryside.

“I luhv duckies, Ma!” he squeals. “Dey go kwack!”

Two years have past since Octavia took the throne, and now her son, Prince Gavriel, is being christened, so it’s time for Clarke, Lexa, and Alexander to make an appearance at court.

They had been touring Arkadia for most of the last year since Aden had finally become old enough to take Jacob’s vacated throne. Clarke relished in being able to share her home with Alex and Lexa, and even more so to have all of her family together for once.

No one questioned Lexa’s presence. Everyone could see that this is why the queen abdicated, so she could have this family. But in returning to her former castle, Clarke can’t help but reflect on how different her life had become.

She had gone to many different kingdoms with Lexa by her side, and together they taught Alexander so many different things—to walk, to talk, and now just starting to read, but never his father’s name. He called Clarke ‘mama’ and Lexa ‘ma’, and they had no intention of directing him to anything else.

Clarke realizes she has made quite a lovely life for herself, as she entwines her fingers with Lexa’s hand. She is happy and in love, and together they have raised a beautiful child—just as she knew he would be.

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me at nataliving.tumblr.com
> 
> yell at Ashlee for creating this AU at reshopgoufa.tumblr.com


End file.
